I dip two fingers into the blue paint, then spread it in a line across my cheeks. All around me, others arre doing the same. I dip my fingers again, this time making two lines down my lips and chin. I turn to Isa. She nods and draws an eye in the same blue on my forehead. I do the same for her, taking extra care to be as neat as possible. Neither of us are as ready for this day as we had hoped...
He burst out of the water, gasping for breath. The change was getting easier every time he did it. Swimming for shore, he reveled in the new strength he had gained over the past month. So much had changed since his seventeenth birthday. Since his mother had died. Since he had moved to the coast. He swam up to beach, remembering the terror that had gripped him the first full moon it had...
Bones aching, she pushed herself faster. She had been flying for three days and three nights, unable to rest with them getting closer and closer. The air tasted of salt, letting her know that the ocean wasn’t far below. Her wings flapped hard, sending her higher as her short black hair fluttered against the back of her neck. The clouds were thick up here. All she could see was grey. Her...
Slam! A wail came from the bundle of blankets she held tight in her arms. “Shhh,” she murmured, brushing some matted bunches of dark brown hair away from her own face while holding the baby tight in her other arm. “Shhh, shhh…” The girl blinked tired grey eyes in the dim light of her cell. The floor was cold and slimy under her bare feet and she was almost...
I pull over to the side of the highway, choking. Black spots dance in front of my eyes, along with the red taillights of everyone else rushing onward down the road. I feel like I’m drowning in nothingness. I want to scream, but I can’t even whimper. My headlights turn themselves off and I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my forehead against the top of the steering wheel. Nothing...
It’s chilly tonight. Well, chillier than it has been recently. I guess the seasons really are changing. It’s November first. It has been for a few hours now, and the last of the drunken teens and adults seem to have all stumbled home from where I’m sitting. That is, on the roof of a small Chinese food joint that hasn’t been open in three months. The smell of fried...
Last Six Stories of the Year
About 10 minutes late, but I’m not known for being punctual. A new short vignette every hour. About a page long, single spaced. Because of reasons.
Tomorrow I think I am going to try and find the graffiti artist running around the “upstanding white people” part of my town and become his/her friend. At the very least I am going to photograph his/her works that I have seen before someone decides that anarchist symbols and free speech are the ultimate evil and paints over them.
shenanigans-and-fisticuffs: ladysparra: I need a new pocket-notebook. here i am! you are a pocket-notebook?
I need a new pocket-notebook.
Cross the line if you want to run away
Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your...– Lawrence Krauss (via black-wolves)
Cross the line if your parents expect you to get...